The Unknown Wrestler Part 37

"You have no business to talk to me that way," he roared. "If you are not satisfied with me get somebody else to attend to your affairs."

"Do you mean it?" Douglas asked. "Do I understand you to say that you will have nothing to do with this case, and that I must get some one else?"

"Yes, that's exactly what I mean."

"Very well, then, I shall take you at your word. But remember, I have appealed to you who have been legally appointed by the Crown. You have refused to act in this case. You have refused to see justice done to an innocent man. Do you know what that means? If not, then it is your duty to know. I shall not ask you again to a.s.sist me. I am going to the city, and one of the ablest lawyers there is a special friend of mine. I shall place the matter in his hands, and you will be forced to abide by the consequences."

Douglas turned and had almost reached the door when Squire Hawkins leaped suddenly from his chair.

"Wait a minute," he ordered. "I want to have a few more words with you."

"What is the sense of our talking any more?" Douglas asked in reply.

"You refuse to conduct this case and what is the use of wasting my time?"

"But perhaps something might be done yet. I feel that I might comply with your request and see this affair through."

"And you will summon those men and try the case yourself?"

"Yes, to the best of my ability."

"Where?"

"In the hall at the Corner, of course."

"When?"

"Will Monday at three o'clock do? That will give me time to serve the summons for the men to appear."

"Yes, that will suit me as well as any time. You must summon the witnesses as well. I shall give you their names. It will be just as well to write them down so as to make no mistake."

Douglas was somewhat surprised at the readiness of Squire Hawkins to comply with his suggestions. He did not know the man or he would not have felt so satisfied. Had he really known what was in his mind, he would have had nothing more to do with him after his first refusal. He was to learn, however, of his mistake later.

CHAPTER XXIII

DISPELLING THE CLOUDS

During the night the clouds rolled away, and Sunday morning dawned warm and clear. It was good to be abroad, so Douglas thought, as he walked along the road with his violin under his arm. It would soon be time for the shoe-maker to begin his morning service, and he knew how Joe and his wife would enjoy a little music. He had not seen the former since Friday afternoon, and he was most anxious to learn the outcome of his struggle between right and wrong.

He found Mrs. Benton in the sitting-room, rocking herself to and fro in a splint-bottom chair. Her face was thin and care-worn, and her hair seemed whiter than the last time he had seen her, and he truthfully divined the cause.

Mrs. Benton's face brightened as her visitor entered the room, and she at once offered him a chair.

"It is good of you to come this morning, sir," she told him.

"I did not wish to miss the service," Douglas replied. "I thought you might like me to play a little," and he pointed to the violin which he had placed upon the table.

"I fear there will be no service this morning," and a troubled expression came into Mrs. Benton's eyes as she spoke. "Joe's been very strange of late, and has not been able to settle down to his work. He can't eat nor sleep, and I am greatly worried about him."

"He is grieving, I suppose."

"Yes, about poor Jean."

"Has he seen her lately?"

"Not since Friday. He may have gone to see her this morning, though, for he left here about half an hour ago, but he didn't tell me where he was going. He seems like a man in a dream."

"He didn't go down the road, Mrs. Benton, or I should have seen him. I was sitting in front of Jake's house reading for some time before I left to come here."

"Oh, he didn't go that way, sir. There is a shortcut across the hills, though it has not been used much of late. The path goes up just in front of our house to the top of the hill, and then turns to the left.

Joe took that this morning, though I do not know why, as he has not travelled that way for years. Perhaps he wishes to be alone. I hope he is not going to do anything desperate. He is so down-hearted and strange that I feel terribly worried about him."

"I am going over to Mrs. Dempster's to-day," Douglas replied, "as she sent word for me to come and see her as soon as possible. I might as well go across the hills if you think I can find my way. Perhaps I shall meet your husband."

"That will be very good of you," and Mrs. Benton's face somewhat brightened. "You should have no trouble about finding the way, for as soon as you reach the top of the hill you will obtain a splendid view of the river and the surrounding country. Even if you cannot find any path up there, you ought to be able to see Mrs. Dempster's house off in the distance."

"I shall make out all right, I am sure," Douglas replied, as he rose to go. "I have never been out on the hills, so it will be nice to get the view from the top."

He found the climb a long and tiresome one. The hot sun seemed to strike the hillside with extra intensity, and there was not a breath of wind abroad. Once he sat down under the shade of an old fir tree and mopped his hot face with his handkerchief. Even from here the view of the river was magnificent, and what must it be from the summit?

When at length he gained the top, he stopped and looked around. Then an exclamation of surprise and awe burst from his lips at the entrancing panorama which was thus suddenly presented to his view.

Miles and miles of the river, unruffled by a breath of wind, lay glittering in the sunshine. Acres of meadow land, dotted with houses, and broken by tracts of forest, stretched out before him. Peace was upon land and river. It was a magic world upon which he gazed with the ardent soul of a lover of things beautiful and grand.

Having thus rested and revelled in Nature's marvellous handiwork, he turned and looked across the hills toward Mrs. Dempster's house. As he did so his eyes caught sight of a lone figure sitting upon a rock some distance away. Peeling sure that it was the shoemaker, he hurried forward and in a few minutes was by his side. Joe did not seem at all surprised at the young man's presence, although his weary face brightened a little.

"It is a great view from here," Douglas began. "I have never seen anything like it."

"What do you see?" the old man asked.

"Why, the river, and that fine stretch of country to the right and left."

"Yes, I suppose you're right, though I have not noticed them this morning. I have been seeing other things."

"What things?" Douglas enquired, as he sat down upon the rock by Joe's side.

"Jean, of course. My Jean and all her troubles are ever before me. I can see nothing else. How can I?"

"But you should, Mr. Benton. Surely you have not forgotten?"

"Forgotten what?"

"The strength which has been your stay for long years. You remember how sad and dreary was the world yesterday. How dismal everything appeared, with not a glimpse of the blue sky. But look now at all this," and Douglas threw out his hand in an eloquent gesture. "See what a change has taken place in a short time. The greyness is gone, and look how blue is the sky, and how bright and warm the sun. Surely He who is able to effect such a marvellous change in Nature in such a few hours, will not forsake His servant in the hour of need. Cheer up, sir, and do not be so down-hearted. Though things seem dark now, yet hope for the best, and trust that the clouds will scatter and the shadows will flee away."

"Your words are full of wisdom," Joe slowly replied, "and you speak like a man who has known trouble. But have you ever experienced a father's sorrow at the loss of a darling child? Can you look back through the years and see that child pure and beautiful, loving and true, making the home ring with her happy laughter and joyous ways?

Then at last to see her degraded, half-demented, a total wreck, with all parental love crushed out of her heart like my Jean over there?

Have you known any sorrow like that, young man?"